Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia, the books, the movie etc.
Right, first of all, this is mainly a jokey type of story so don't kill me. I'm not criticising Narnia and it's endless magical magic but this plot originated from a really...really hyper discussion...I'm not sure how it even came about but still. Anyway, I got told I should make it into a fanfic so here I am...doing it...and it's going to be utterly completely insane...ENJOY! :)
"It's the stuff of dreams, Tessa," Rosie stated bluntly, shoving the book aside. "Narnia doesn't exist."
Tessa's face contoured with sadness as she contemplated the existence of this wonderland.
"But the lady said it did. She went there with her two brothers and her sister. She said it was terrific."
Rosie shook her head. Tessa dived over Rosie to retrieve the book and flick through the pages. The book was unlike any other book in the house; thick, encased in leather, worn by many hands. The book was thick but that was where similarities stopped. It was a glossy pinnacle of modern books where the spine was bound by glue. Rosie pulled the book back from Tessa's hands in an attempt to calm her excitement.
"Well she obviously went mad." Rosie used her words to brush over the whole book.
"And her brothers? Her sister?"
"We can only presume they don't exist too. Like Narnia."
"But she wanted to write the book to tell people about her time in Narnia. You were there when when she said it. She wanted people to know her story."
"And that's all it is; a story," Rosie tries to suppress Tessa.
Putting the book down onto the bedside table, Rosie then throws a pillow into her face
"Bed." She states.
She gets off the bed and walks up, across the room, until she reaches the door. Tessa sulks into her bed, her face still contoured with confusion as to why or how a person would lie about such a major thing. By the time the bedroom door is shut, and Rosie's footsteps can't be heard anymore, Tessa rolls over her bed to repossess the book. She picks it up in her hands and stares at its cover in suspense. The cover is split into three sections: a middle band for the title and writer's name, a snow covered landscape above the band and another bursting with springtime life below the band. Upon close examination, one can observe that the landscapes are the same and both appear as though they have been painted then coated with the book's glossy protection layer. The book entitles itself Narnia by Lucy Pevensie
